


McLovin' It

by treefrogie84



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Birthdays, Gen, Time Travel, sam winchester's fear of clowns, season 5, vintage mcdonald's playgrounds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-16
Updated: 2017-09-16
Packaged: 2018-12-30 12:09:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12108402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/treefrogie84/pseuds/treefrogie84
Summary: Castiel steps back in time to figure out why some cheap fast food hamburgers necessitate postponing leaving for Detroit.





	McLovin' It

The laws of Heaven are clear: interference is forbidden, particularly when traveling in time. Castiel might be having doubts, might be far too close to the Winchesters, but some things are deeply ingrained. Even if he wanted to interfere, he’s not sure he could.

He stands, invisible, near the slide of the McDonald’s play area, a silent witness to what he knows is the only birthday party Sam had before leaving for college. 

It’s nothing important, Castiel knows this. But Sam’s laughter is infectious, floating over the playground, running around, climbing into the [fiberglass hamburger](https://i2.wp.com/media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lo6tfdBmVo1qkzq2g.jpg), sliding down the slide. He is joyous in the way only young children can be, so different than the serious young man Sam is in 2010.

He’s lost track of what he was hoping to learn by coming to this place and time, but Sam does look like he’s having fun, so maybe that is enough.

Then he catches sight of Dean. Eleven years old, standing near the bags of food, leaning against the fence. Sam’s joy isn’t reflected in his face. Instead, he’s quiet, watching Sam with the silent intensity that Castiel recognizes from watching Sam detox from demon blood.

It hurts. Even if he can’t understand why anyone would ever think that [purple and steel monstrosity](https://i2.wp.com/media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lo6sjwo8Xp1qkzq2g.jpg) or frankly terrifying tree make good playground equipment, no one should be so serious, not at that age.

The decision to materialize behind Dean… isn’t. Castiel just does it, acknowledging as he does so that this is probably what Anna was warning him about. 

Even after blurring Dean’s perceptions so he looks about the same age as him, Castiel still stays on the other side of the fence, a couple arm lengths away. “Hello.”

Dean whirls around, hand dropping to the butterfly knife in his pocket, “Where the hell did you come from?”

“I… I got bored, waiting. You look interesting.”

Dean raises an eyebrow and scoffs, “They’re three seven year olds playing tag, not that interesting, dude.” He pulls his hand from his pocket, pretending that he was never planning on stabbing anyone who threatened his brother.

“I’m trying to understand why anyone would willingly climb into a hamburger jail with a constable hat on top.”

Dean laughs and relaxes for the first time. “Because little kids don’t think about it. They just want to run around.”

“And you? You don’t also want to run around?”

“Nah, I gotta… It’s my brother’s birthday party. I need to watch out for him.” Dean reaches up, rubs the back of his neck. “If your folks are gonna be a while, you can… I am a little bored.”

The fence is barely waist-high on Jimmy’s fully grown body, easy enough to hop over. Sticking his hand out, Castiel formally says, “My name’s… Jimmy.” The lie is uncomfortable, even if it’s necessary. Even if he only talks with Dean, that could still be considered interference. Better to have a completely forgettable name, this entire encounter easily relegated to the depths of Dean’s memory.

He might assist with that, actually, once it’s over.

Dean looks at him oddly, but shakes his hand carefully. “Dean.” They stand like that for a few minutes, before Dean sighs and moves to sit at the table. “C’mon and sit down, man. I’m going to be here for a while, might as well get comfy.”

Things are stilted for a while longer, but eventually, Dean lets down his guard so they can talk more freely about whatever crosses Dean’s mind. Until Castiel screws up.

“This is your brother’s birthday party, but your dad…”

Dean is instantly on guard. “I didn’t say shit about my dad. Who the fuck are you?”

“Dean…”

“No, what the fuck are you? Are you a demon? Is that what this is? Trying to get me on your side, betray my brother?”

“No!” Castiel bursts out, searing disappointment setting in. “I wanted to…” He momentarily loses control of the glamour he’s cast, image flickering back to Jimmy’s true age. 

Dean’s hand is instantly on his knife again, recoiling. “Get away from us.” Swallowing, he glances towards the kids before meeting Castiel’s eyes again, harshly whispering. “Whatever you are. Whoever you are.”

“I just…” Dean’s not listening anymore. There’s no point in protesting further, it won’t do anything other than maybe getting a knife in his chest twenty years early.

Briefly, he lets loose a bolt of lightning, frying [the yellow clown](http://www.obnoxiousantiques.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/10/mcdonald-s.jpg) standing near the gate, and becomes invisible during the flash.

Sam immediately starts screaming at the sight of the burning statue, flames shooting above the roof. Dean abandons his seat at the table and runs towards Sam, scooping him up and hugging him close. The other two children-- nameless in Sam and Dean’s memories-- are soon wailing too. 

Dean looks furious, but doesn’t have time to try to find Castiel. 

Sighing, he flies away from the playground. So much for not interfering, instead he’s ruined Sam’s birthday and caused a lifelong phobia. Dean still feels alone, abandoned. 

The idea strikes him just as he spreads his wings to fly back to the present. Instead, he moves to a bookstore halfway across the world, drops a few pound notes on the register before absconding with the novel that is-- or will become-- Dean’s favorite.

Castiel materializes in the worn motel room, rolling his eyes at John’s drunken snores. He scribbles a short note on the cover page-- _I’m sorry, J/C_ \-- and disappears after tucking the book into Dean’s duffle.

Bobby’s house is still imperfectly warded against angels. At some point, he needs to fix that, but right now, Castiel wants nothing more than to apologize. Staggering into the living room from the kitchen, he shudders when Dean looks up and meets his eyes.

“Whoa, dude. You okay?” Dean is at his side in three steps, wrapping an arm around his waist and leading him over to the couch.

“I…” How does he even begin to start? “I wanted to see why it was important. The small toy and cheeseburgers. You were so adamant and so angry when it got interrupted...”

“Okay…” Dean drags out.

“I’m sorry. I ruined Sam’s birthday and you just wanted to do something nice for him and I _know_ it took every cent you’d saved for six months and...” Castiel trails off.

“Wait, Sam’s birthday?” Dean looks away for a few seconds, staring out the window. “Wait. When Sam was like, seven. That time at McDonalds-- with the freak lightning strike and the clown-- that was _you_?”

He curls into himself, drawing away from Dean and the comfort he doesn’t deserve, before nodding. “I didn’t mean…”

“Cas, Cas!” Dean jostles him. “I thought you weren’t allowed to change the past.”

“Technically, I didn’t. If I hadn’t done it, then…” 

“Sure, Spock, whatever you say.” But Dean’s smiling, so maybe this is forgivable. “I hated that town anyway.”

“I am sorry. I never meant to ruin Sam’s birthday. Back then or yesterday.”

“You don’t need to apologize to me for that. Yesterday either. The clowns--” he makes a see-saw motion with his hand. “Yeah, maybe should apologize to Sam for that one.” They stay silent for a few minutes, the comfortable silence they’ve been falling into more and more often lately. 

Eventually, Dean yawns and makes an abortive stretch along the couch. Quietly, he says, “You know, I never could figure out where that copy of Cat’s Cradle came from. Nevermind the inscription. Finally decided that Bobby had tossed it in on accident when we’d left.” He chuckles tiredly. “Should have figured it out long ago, when we met Jimmy at least.”

Castiel shrugs, “I deliberately confused your perceptions. Didn’t want you to...You couldn’t recognize me, not if we were interacting. And I didn’t want to be ‘creepy.’”

“Yeah, Cas. I get it. No worries.” Dean yawns again.

“I should let you get some sleep.” Shifting to Bobby’s chair, he watches Dean bunch up his flannel and jacket into a pillow. 

“Yeah. I need my four hours. G’night, Cas.”

“Good night, Dean.”

**Author's Note:**

> You should be able to follow the links to images of the playground equipment in question, however, if you can't or the links break, just google "vintage McDonalds playgrounds." You'll find them in all their horrifying glory.


End file.
